


Bramblewing's Deliverance

by Bramblewing (PercyCalypso)



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Dark Forest (Warriors), Multi, RiverClan (Warriors), ShadowClan (Warriors), StarClan (Warriors), ThunderClan (Warriors), WindClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-05 15:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10310942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercyCalypso/pseuds/Bramblewing
Summary: Rumors fly about a long-deceased clan cat holding great power in StarClan, and that there was once a prophecy that questioned whether they are able to create chaos and evil while being in a place of heavenly peace. Will alliances across the ethereal and the dark raze the clans? Boundaries StarClan and the Dark Forest begin to blur, and one cat will be the key to either save Heaven or reign Hell. A young ShadowClan warrior, Bramblewing, finds herself trapped in a liminal space between the two, cryptic messages coming from both sides of the border. After the malicious and mysterious murder of a clan deputy, no one knows who to trust and everything falls victim to chaos. Is anyone in control?





	1. Prologue / Allegiances

A paw dipped into a puddle of water, sending ripples across its surface. Lifting it out and shaking lingering droplets from it, a slender grey-and-white cat slowly set her paw down on the dry ground again, staring for a moment at her reflection in the water before blinking and lifting her head to the dark shadows ahead of her. She tilted her head, ears twitching, starstuff swirling haphazardly around her fur and lifting off the ground like a cloud of dust as she flicks her tail.

Emerging from a line of darkness, phantom shadows flickering like black flames around dark paws, a broad, muscular, black tabby tom stared down the other cat, coming to stand before her.

“I’m not here for fun and games,” the tom said with a deep, booming voice.

“And I’m not here to exchange pleasantries,” mewed the she-cat, mixed amusement and annoyance flashing across her eyes.

Flicking his tail, the tom began to pace, not moving closer to the she-cat, as if there were an invisible line drawn between them and he could not go nearer. It was obvious he was aggravated and anxious with some sort of nervous anticipation, palpable tension emanating from him. He snarled to himself as he came to a stop, unsheathing and sheathing sharp claws.

“Well?” He snapped, looking at her again. “Did you bring it?”

“Of course I did,” the she-cat said coolly, “but do you want it or not?”

“Of course I want it. I’d be an idiot to come here and tell you to put it back. Do you think that I’m going to walk away and not take this opportunity you’ve offered?” His chest heaved with deep breaths.

The she-cat lifted a paw and kicks forward a pebble. It crossed that invisible line and came to a rolling stop before the tom, a light blue glow surrounding it. He looked down at it, eyes widening for a moment before his expression snapped back to its callous look.

“If anything goes wrong, this is on _you_ ,” he growled.

 

* * *

 

**Allegiances**

 

 

** Shadowclan **

 

Crowstar (prev. Crowfur) | Leader | Long-haired, large, black smoke tabby tom with amber eyes.

Russettail | Deputy | Red and brown ticked tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

Foxflame | Medicine Cat | Ginger tabby tom with blue eyes and long legs.

Bramblewing | Warrior | Brown and white tabby she-cat with green eyes. She is slender with long legs and moves smoothly and gracefully.

Hollyshade | Warrior | Long legged long-haired dark tortoiseshell with a jagged scar on her left shoulder and orange eyes.

Webnose | Warrior | Silver she-cat with white paws and a splash of white on her chest and blue eyes.

Swanfeather | Warrior | Small white she-cat with black paws and green eyes.

 

** Thunderclan **

 

Sagestar (prev. Sageeyes) | Leader | Lavender (dilute black/blue) long-haired she-cat with pale green eyes.

Eagleclaw | Deputy | Long-haired broad-shouldered golden tabby tom with blue eyes.

Littlestorm | Medicine Cat | Blue-grey she-cat with blue eyes. She has long fur that puffs out and a fluffy tail.

Goldenfire | Warrior | Golden-brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Gingerstorm | Warrior | Ginger tabby tom with a white muzzle, neck, chest, and front paws with blue eyes.

Emberfall | Warrior | Amber long-haired tabby she-cat with brown-tipped ears and tail and amber eyes.

 

** Riverclan **

 

Whitestar (Prev. Whiteshell) | Leader | White long-haired she-cat with grey markings on her head and shoulders with a grey tail.

Jaysnow | Deputy | Dark grey tabby tom with a plumed tail, a splash of white on his chest, and dark blue eyes.

Glassheart| Medicine Cat | Long-haired silver and white ticked tabby she-cat with a plumed tail and blue eyes.

 

** Windclan **

 

Blizzardstar (prev. Blizzardfoot) | Leader | Black and white bicolor muscular long-haired tom with amber eyes.

~~Cinderfoot | Deputy | Smaller grey tom with yellow eyes.~~

Hollyfeather | Deputy | Black short-haired she-cat with blue and green heterochromia eyes.

Starlingpelt | Medicine Cat | Black and white spotted (“Finnish” mutation) she-cat with yellow eyes.

Swiftshadow | Warrior | Slim black tom with long legs and green eyes.

Fawnflight | Warrior | Chocolate tortoiseshell and white she-cat with blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a seemingly boring Greenleaf, Bramblewing is itching for excitement. Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.

A loud yowl was heard in the distance, a hiss was breathed across her ear, and her shoulder stung. Every inch of her body was strained and throbbing, her limbs feeling as heavy as lead and blood dripping into her eyes. Is there a notch cut in her ear now? She hoped not. Her tail stung with teeth sinking into it, and she let out a yelp as claws raked across her flank. The light kept going in and out, as if the sun was flickering on and off and the world couldn’t decide if I was bright, burning day or cold, starless night. Claws sunk into her shoulders and she crumpled to the ground. _The End._

×××

When she woke up, Bramblewing’s face was pressed right into the pine needles that line her nest. Lifting her head and shaking it she got off what she could, but the pine scent was so overwhelming in her nostrils that she couldn’t hold back a sneeze, promptly waking someone next to her. There was a growl from the lump of dark fur curled up in a nest beside her. Eyes widening, Bramblewing leaned backward preparing for a vicious snapping.

“Really? I was sleeping.” A sigh heaved as a tortoiseshell she-cat slowly stretched out her body. “Please don’t sneeze in my ear again.”

“Sorry, Hollyshade,” Bramblewing mewed. “I woke up face-down in my nest in the most uncomfortable position—”

“—You were moving around like crazy and kicked me more than once.” Hollyshade interrupted, her orange eyes narrowing drowsily.

“I never said I felt like I was sleeping in a flowerbed at sunhigh in the peace and quiet,” Bramblewing pointed out, stretching out her back and her legs, shaking her head once more to get off any lingering pine needles. “Oh well, at least you didn’t have dawn patrol. Get up, you lazy toad.” And with a flick of her tail she padded out of the den and into the middle of camp. With looming pine trees, Shadowclan lives up to its name with shadows encompassing a majority of the open base of the camp. In greenleaf it’s convenient, allowing clan members to stay cool, as they were doing at the present.

It was nowhere near sunhigh, but cats were already lying down in the shade, conversing lazily and trying not to overheat. Across the clearing is the elders den, where a few old cats sat lied around to talk about the “good ol’ days”, complaining about today’s warriors and apprentices who show no respect for anyone. Bramblewing is pretty sure that every generation of elders says the same thing. A ways over is the leader’s den, covered in brambles, next to a few low-branched trees. Sitting on one of the boughs next to the den was none other than the Shadowclan leader himself, Crowstar. With his dark, thick fur, Bramblewing is amazed that it’s possible for him to sit so astutely and not show a single hint of feeling like he’s melting down to his paws.

A dark red-brown she-cat padded up toward the bough and crouches, leaping and landing next to the large tom. Russettail, the clan deputy, likely discussing who to bring to the Gathering that night. It seemed like it was only the other day that the last Gathering occurred. The clans, so clichédly “at peace” for the time being, had little to nothing to share. The heat and humidity was annoying them, but they weren’t in a drought, nor were they in danger of a flood. That Gathering was short and boring.

Was it wrong for her to wish for some sort of adventure or excitement? Just a simple dispute, perhaps. Hollyshade barely snapping at her in the warriors den was the most excitement she’d had in a half moon. She didn’t even laugh the day before when one of her clanmates fell flat on their face when trying to pounce on a frog, which promptly hopped on top of the cat’s head. The predator became the prey, and she didn’t even bat an eye.

Pulled from her thoughts, Bramblewing was crashed into by a blurr of fur. A yelp escaped her and she tumbled across the ground, a lump of weight pinning down her shoulders. Gaining her bearings again and squinting, she finds herself nose-to-nose with Webnose, her silver clanmate.

“Go.” With a blunt, emotionless word, Webnose just simply blinked her blue eyes.

Bramblewing wrinkled her nose. “Go where? You’re standing on me, I can’t go anywhere.”

“Do it anyway.” The other she-cat’s voice was flat, paws staying put.

“I’ll claw your face off.”

“Try it.”

With a grumble, Bramblewing, wriggled beneath the younger cat’s grip. If she wasn’t still exhausted after a restless sleep and a bad dream, she’d be more apt to shove the other over, but she just didn’t feel like it. “For the love of Starclan, let me go.” She wanted to add _you oaf!_ onto the end of her request, but she figured it wouldn’t do her any good either way.

Finally Webnose released her, and once she rolled back onto her feet and licked her fur flat, Bramblewing swatted her clanmate over the ear. All that earned her was a deadly glare (that she knows means absolutely nothing—yet). Both cats set off toward the fresh-kill pile, but before either of them could even paw through to see what’s good, a yowl echoed across the clearing, leaving Bramblewing frozen in place, jaw open while crouching down to grab a vole. _Foxdung!_ Lifting her head, hoping no one saw her looking like an idiot, she straightened her back and looked toward where the sound came from.

Russettail sat with her head held high, tail swaying behind her. With pride she sat looking rather small next to Crowstar, who isn’t even the largest cat among the clans. Having been the cat to call the attention to the clan, she yells out once more. “All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather!”

Collectively cats began to flow out of their dens and from their spots in the clearing. Together in a crowd Bramblewing could already feel her body heating up. It was too warm out to amass a crowd like this. Already she could hear complaints, but she tuned them out and directed her gaze toward the leader while settling next to Webnose.

“As you all know,” Crowstar’s deep voice caused everyone in the sandy clearing to hush, “tonight is the Gathering. I have been made aware that there is the possibility that another clan may choose to cause a fight.”

Yowls and growls rose up from the various cats, shouts of protest, many asking who and why, a few hotheaded cries of wanting to prepare for a battle immediately, to defend the honor of Shadowclan.

“Quiet!” Russettail called, baring her teeth in annoyance. “Listen to your leader speak.”

After waiting for a few heartbeats, Crowstar continued. “I am not going to say who, because I don’t want any problems. Not yet. I expect you to act as if you do not have this knowledge. But,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “if something happens, I ask you to be smart about your actions. I will not have us start a battle at a Gathering.”

More grumbles of dissent echoed across the crowd of clan cats, but for the most part they were muffled, and a few cats nodded. _Good enough_ , Bramblewing thought. _Maybe some idiots won’t cause problems for once_. Then again, she realized that this was the potential for something—anything—to happen, and her paws itched with excitement. At least things were getting a little bit interesting.

“That being said,” Crowstar’s voice ran out once more, “I will call out those who will be attending the Gathering now.”

×××

Wind tugged lightly at Bramblewing’s pelt as she padded across the fallen tree to get across the water and onto the island where the Gathering is held. Happy to be chosen to attend the Gathering once again, the she-cat looked forward to seeing friends of hers from the other clans. While the warriors have to be loyal to their clans first, they are certainly not beyond being able to have acquaintances across clan borders.

Pausing to sniff the air, the overwhelming scents from each clan assaulted her senses. The deciduous smell from Thunderclan, the fresh scent from Windclan, the warm and slightly damp smell from Riverclan, and lastly the warm, familiar pine scent from her own clan. The mingling scents gave her cause for more excitement, her tail-tip twitching as she leaped off the log and onto the soft ground. Padding onward she lifted her head to look for others, weaving in and out of warriors of all different colors of pelts. Without particular identifiers, they’d seem like one giant colony when the Gatherings took place.

“Bramblewing!” A familiar cat bounded toward her excitedly, golden tabby fur bristling with happiness. Goldenfire, a fun, laid back she-cat from Thunderclan, came up to her with a purr, playfully swatting at her shoulder. “Look at you, have you even been eating. You’re so scrawny you’re going to turn into a Windclan cat.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

Both she-cats turned, blinking and twitching their whiskers while a long-legged, sleek black tom tilted his head to the side, green eyes flickering with amusement. Beside him walked a smaller, longer-furred black she-cat.

“Probably,” she quipped, “but at least we’re more organized than Shadowclan.”

“Swiftshadow, Hollyfeather.” Bramblewing addressed her friends, lifting her chin as she regarded them. “At least Shadowclan keeps their heads and wits about them.” She mewed mostly teasing, but with a slight edge to her voice. A bit of a warning. _Be careful who you’re talking to_.

With an innocent _mrrow_ , Bramblewing kneaded the grass beneath her feet. Her senses were heightened as she took in everything, wary of the moods and behaviors of other clan cats. Despite the news from Crowstar, everyone around seemed to be in a decent mood, relaxed, happy, and calm. No one seemed nervous or anxious or angry. _Perhaps it’s for the best_ , she thought, dipping her head in acknowledgement to something Goldenfire said, despite not having heard a word, _we don’t need fighting_. Only after some more meaningless conversation that the she-cat didn’t pay well enough attention to did the large congregation of clan cats begin to quiet down. Leaders from all four clans jumped onto branches of a tree.

Crowstar sat in the crook of a branch, his gaze steady as he observed the crowd. On a bough opposite stood the Windclan leader, Blizzardstar, a rather large black and white tom who had disturbingly intense amber eyes. Just below him sat a beautiful long-furred white and grey she-cat. Whitestar, the Riverclan leader, always seemed to keep a calm air about her, making any possible tension between the leaders dissipate, at least for a few moments. Last to join them was Sagestar, Thunderclan’s lithe lavender leader, and as she settled, Whitestar let out a yowl to bring the Gathering to an order.

“Welcome, everyone,” she began, her smooth voice hushing any lingering sounds from the crowd. “I have little to report tonight, other than the fact that Riverclan is thriving. Prey is plenty, as is water, and our warriors and their apprentices are working as hard as ever. Starclan has blessed us with good health.” There were nods and meows of approval across all clans, and Whitestar settled down in place, allowing the next leader to take over.

Sagestar went next, also having nothing new to report aside from a couple new apprentices, followed by Crowstar, who calmly reported similarly. None of it caught Bramblewing’s attention, and her mind drifted elsewhere, only pausing at the moment of chanting the names of Thunderclan’s new apprentices. Otherwise, her gaze remained unfocused and ears not listening. With no news, there was no reason to really pay attention.

When Blizzardstar stood, however, she blinked and looked up. Wary of the fact that two Windclan friends were near her, Bramblewing tried to not show her disdain for Blizzardstar. Quite the large brute, he tended to have a hot head and cause some arguments over near nothing. If anyone was going to have anything interesting to say tonight, it was going to be him. So she flicked her ears and leaned forward attentively.

“Windclan remains strong,” Blizzardstar’s deep voice was full, strong, and clear. “We are well-fed, rabbits are plenty, and our warriors keep the clan well-fed and prepared for anything.” His gaze slowly shifted over toward Crowstar, as if warning him. Returning his look to the congregation, though, he held his head high. “Windclan would like the other clans to know—” a yowl echoed from the far side of the clearing, interrupting him.

Heads turned, ears perking and all alert to listen in on whatever was happening. A panicked she-cat ran up toward the base of the tree where the leaders sat, near the medicine cats. Leaping down, Blizzardstar confronted her. “Starlingpelt, what’s the meaning of this?”

Starlingpelt, an oddly colored black she-cat with white spots, looked at her leader with wild eyes, her chest heaving and her fur sticking out on end. “Disaster!” she meowed in distress. “Disaster! More than a bad omen. Worse than anything I’ve ever seen!” The other leaders left their posts, one after another coming to the ground.

“Calm down, deep breaths,” soothed Whitestar, but her words were lost on both the Windclan medicine cat as well as the rest of the clan cats. Murmurs were rising loudly, cats straining to see and hear the commotion toward the front.

An anxious feeling rose in Bramblewing’s chest, and she turned to gaze at Hollyfeather and Swiftshadow, who had looks of worry on their faces. Neither of them knew what was going on—not that she’d expected them to—but it was obvious that her feeling was shared. Whatever was going on, their intuition collectively told them that this was more than the little bit of excitement Bramblewing wanted earlier.

Excruciatingly long moments passed, too many voices causing a commotion while the leaders and medicine cats attempted to calm Starlingpelt. Though her breathing was still ragged, finally her incoherent meows settled into actual words.

“Go on, tell us what happened.” Blizzardstar said gruffly, eyes narrowed and gaze hardened, prepared to keep any shock or surprise off his features.

“Cinderfoot—” Starlingpelt let out another weeping yowl. “—Cinderfoot has been murdered at this Gathering!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it officially begins. Leave questions and comments below, please, and thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astonished, Bramblewing finds herself stuck in the middle. But... the middle of what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a paragraph of descriptive gore--tread carefully if squeamish!

Hundreds of yowls demanding answers rang through the trees, a chaotic clamor that assaulted Bramblewing’s ears. She looked around, craning her neck and hissing in aggravation. Everyone was shouting and moving, she couldn’t seem to gain proper bearings as she struggled to just concentrate. Before she could say anything to her companions, both Swiftshadow and Hollyfeather were dashing off toward the edge of the clearing. Leaving Goldenfire behind, Bramblewing followed closely on their heels, weaving in and out of the other warriors around them.

Breaking through the front of the crowd, Bramblewing nearly crashed into her Windclan friends who had stopped dead in their tracks. All the air left her lungs, her green eyes widening with shock. She hadn’t witnessed a gory battle before in her life, only minor skirmishes with other clans, and the sight held before her was likely worse than anything that she’d ever see on a battlefield. Her stomach churned and she worried she’d lose the delicious vole she’d had earlier. She hadn’t even known Cinderfoot that well, but what she beheld now would burn in her memory forever.

Lying in the grass in dark pool of red, the gray warrior’s pelt was matted and patchy, in some spots he was missing fur entirely, bloody skin peeking through. An eye was missing out of its socket, his tongue dangling out of his mouth between his teeth, his jaw was torn, as if it’d been stretch so badly the skin split in two. His remaining yellow eye was absolutely lifeless and lackluster, staring out toward the edge of the trees, alluding to the possible flight route of his assailant. His throat was ripped apart, his esophagus stripped and ragged, the last of his blood leaking out of it. His abdomen was also ripped open, his bowels spilling out onto the ground. Whatever happened was clearly overkill, and Bramblewing couldn’t figure out how it was possible for him to be killed with such maliciousness without anyone hearing a sound.

The she-cat gagged, the metallic scent of blood leaving her unable to smell any other scent around her, despite how close she was standing to Hollyfeather and Swiftshadow. Her friends looked absolutely horrified. Hollyfeather’s jaw was dropped in shock, her fur on end. Swiftshadow was rigid, not moving a single muscle, eyes clouded with pain. It was then that she remembered Cinderfoot had been Swiftshadow’s mentor. The kind but passive deputy had been great in teaching the young warrior in his apprenticeship, despite being unable to keep a hold on the other warriors like a deputy ought to be capable of. However, the younger tom had respected Cinderfoot greatly and gained quite a bit of confidence from him. She couldn’t imagine the pain of her mentor being brutally and viciously murdered. It made her skin crawl.

Snapping out of her trance and taking a step back, Bramblewing noticed the leaders all coming through the crowd, Blizzardstar’s eyes hardened while Sagestar and Whitestar looked on with horror. Crowstar held back, expression stoic. How could he remain so unreadable while looking at such a disgusting scene?

Slowly, after examining the body, Blizzardstar turned to look at the other leaders. “Who did this?” He demanded, his rather sizeable claws unsheathing. “ _Who did this_?” His deep yowl shook the crowd, everyone falling silent. The WindClan leader’s amber eyes flashed as his head jerked toward Crowstar. “ **You**.”

Crowstar’s ears twitched in alarm, “What? You can’t possibly be implying that I or one of my warriors committed such a crime.” His tone remained level, but was edged with coldness.

“Why should I believe otherwise? ShadowClan has always picked on WindClan, imagining us to be the weakest of the Clans.”

“My warriors would do no such thing. We abide by _morals_ , despite our past.”

“ShadowClan is at fault!” Blizzardstar snapped, moving toward Crowstar with a snarl.

“Stop!” Whitestar stepped between the two toms. “We will not have a fight at the Gathering. This has been an atrocious crime, but we cannot blame anyone until there has been an investigation. Leave it to our Medicine Cats to determine what might have happened here, and pray to StarClan to send us a sign.”

Blizzardstar hissed in annoyance, but backed down, Crowstar still holding his head high and not letting out a sound. Bramblewing could feel the tension that hung in the air—it was so thick that it could be cut with her claws. Her tail-tip twitched anxiously while her eyes darted toward her friends again, who still hadn’t hardly moved. Hollyfeather, however, then lifted her head to look toward her leader and former mentor. The leader looked back at her, sensing her gaze. Then, with a blink, he turned tail to address his Clan.

“WindClan, return to our territory. Starlingpelt and I will stay while we decide what to be done about Cinderfoot. Tonight we mourn his death. He was a great warrior and will be missed.” As his Clan began to slowly head away from the clearing, he called out once more. “Hollyfeather, stay here.”

Swiftshadow leaned down to touch his nose to the pelt of his former mentor, murmuring something quietly that Bramblewing couldn’t make out, and she watched as Hollyfeather reluctantly turned away and padded toward Blizzardstar.

Before she could say anything, Russettail appeared at her side and placed her tail gingerly over Bramblewing’s shoulders. “I know they’re your friends, but we need to go. We are only going to cause more distress if we stay.” Nodding, the young warrior followed the deputy toward the trees and the edge of the island. Despite wanting to find out exactly what might have happened, she obliged. There was no use causing suspicion by sneaking away and spying. Her heart ached nonetheless. Poor Cinderfoot didn’t deserve this. _He’s with StarClan now, where he belongs. He will be honored there._

***

Moonhigh had long passed, and the morning was quickly approaching by the time ShadowClan returned to camp. Wearily padding along, Bramblewing’s paws ached with each step. She couldn’t shake the image of Cinderfoot’s mangled body from her mind, it was stuck there, permanently burned there. One of the last to step into camp, she could already hear the buzz of the rest of ShadowClan asking what had happened. She didn’t want anything else to do with it for the night, and chose to drag herself into the warrior’s den, flopping down onto her soft nest and closing her eyes, seeing nothing behind her lids but scarlet.

***

“Bramblewing,” a soft voice mewed in her ear, gentle and smooth. Serene, almost. Slowly she opened her eyes, taking in a deep breath and lifting her head. She was standing in the middle of a meadow, yellow daffodils and white daisies, pink posies, and red poppies waving in a gentle breeze with tall, bright green grass. It smelled so fresh, so calming. Her weariness felt lifted, and her thoughts were cleared. For a moment she almost forgot to question where she was and who was talking to her. Everything was just so beautiful, she could stay there forever and not want to leave.

“Bramblewing,” the voice spoke again, just a ways off. A few yards over there stood a beautiful white and grey she-cat, tail waving lazily behind her. Intelligent green eyes stared unblinking at the younger warrior, beckoning her forward.

“Who are you?” Bramblewing asked, tilting her head as she approached. Recognizing she was in a dream, the warrior was confused but not too worried—only slight apprehension echoed in the back of her mind.

“A friend,” the she-cat replied, hopping down from the rock. “I have been watching you.”

Confusion caused Bramblewing to wrinkle her nose. “Why?”

“You are young and smart and strong. Why not?”

Before Bramblewing could answer, the other turned with a tail-flick indicating she should follow. Padding quickly along the other’s side, the younger warrior followed through the seemingly endless meadow, sun shining and blue sky hanging above with light clouds drifting calmly across the sky. The two were silent, anxiety slowly tickling her pelt.

Suddenly the meadow ended. They stepped out of tall grass and arrived on a soft, sandy edge, sparkling dust swirling at their paws. Bramblewing glanced down, curiosity rising as she swiped at it with her paw.

“Stardust,” she muttered. “Are we—am I in Starclan? What in the world am I doing here? I’m not a medicine cat there’s no reason for me to be here.”

“My name is Orchidstar,” the she-cat ignored Bramblewing’s question, “and I am here to show you your destiny.” Slowly she reached out and dipped a white paw into a puddle, sending a ripple across the surface that disturbed a darkness across it. The fog at the edge of the sand disappeared and gave way to dark soil and blackened, dead decaying trees. A rotten, swamp-like scent hit Bramblewing and she coughed, blinking back tears.

“You see, young warrior, you are special.” The way Orchidstar said _special_ made Bramblewing uneasy. It sounded decadent, decorated with sweetness. But everything about the deceased leader was exemplary. She was beautiful, and she had a kind aura about her, as well as mystique that piqued Bramblewing’s intrigue.

“There’s a whole world out here that you are unaware of,” Orchidstar continued. “You see the territory of StarClan behind you, and ahead of you is a place much darker. But you, you are capable of standing in the middle. I cannot go over there. Nor can those on that side come over here. But you can cross both. Do you know why?”

Bramblewing shook her head. She knew about StarClan, but she had no clue what this _darker place_ consisted of. Did it even have a name?

Orchidstar sighed. “Neither do I. Not yet. But I will figure out.”

“What—What if I don’t want to go over there? It… smells. And it’s kind of creepy. How do I know I’m not going to get attacked?” The ShadowClan warrior was extremely skeptical, eyes shifting back and forth between the leader and the other side.

“What if you don’t have a choice?” The other said with a sudden sneer. Bramblewing was taken aback. The kind older she-cat unsheathed her claws, a snarl coming from her as she bared her teeth. The younger warrior took a step back, splashing her hind paws in the puddle, eyes round with worry.

Orchidstar approached her, hissing. While Bramblewing tried to hold her ground, unsheathing her own claws. However, before she could make a move, a thought stopped her. _Am I even allowed to fight a StarClan warrior? Is that even_ possible _?_ And before the thought could dissipate, the leader lept at her, pushing her off her feet and causing her to slam into the ground and skid into the middle ground between the two worlds with a force stronger than that of any warrior she’d ever sparred with or fought in her life.

Scrambling to her feet, she tried to return to the meadow, but as soon as she stepped onto the sand, her paws burned. Yelping in pain, she stumbled backward, hind legs giving out and falling into the mud. The whole world around her seemed to spin. All she could make out was a flash of acrimony in Orchidstar’s blue eyes as she laughed, the Starclan side fading into smoke.

***

It felt as though days passed while Bramblewing laid there, dazed, in the mud between the two worlds. Only the darkened trees loomed ahead of her, and she dared not cross the line over there. Would it cause her feet to burn again? Or would she get stuck over there? Or was she stuck here forever? She couldn’t decide, and it made her head spin. Trembling, the she-cat stayed put.

After another many moons (or so it seemed) a swirl of black fire and a silhouette emerged from the trees. A large tom padded toward the edge of the soil, standing behind the line of mud, looking down at Bramblewing as though she were a mouse and he was hungry.

“Ah, here she is.” His purr sounded downright nefarious, rumbling with wicked amusement. “The _special girl_.”

Bramblewing struggled to her paws, still wincing at her pain. “What do you want?” Her meow was pathetic. She hadn’t even fought Orchidstar and she felt as though she was going to pass out. What had happened? Was she poisoned? Nothing made sense.

“I just want you to see me. You’ll know me soon enough. Look for me in the dark—I’ll be there. But for now, I’ll let you go.” The black tabby tom sneered.

“But who are you? What’s your name?” She called, he was beginning to fade. Or was she beginning to lose consciousness?

“You’ll know it when you hear it.” His deep voice rumbled in her ears as everything went black. “Good luck, _prophecy girl_.”

***

Light flooded Bramblewing’s vision as she blinked, looking up at the sky through the branches of familiar pine trees. A moment of confusion blanketed her mind, and she blinked again, standing still. She was back in ShadowClan territory, and her body felt fine. She wasn’t even weary. There was no pain in her paws, her muscles were invigorated, and she felt strong. Taking a deep breath of coniferous air, she lowered her head and glanced around. How had she gotten here? That dream… was it a dream? It felt so real, but it couldn’t have been real. There was no way to cross a plane of existence physically, right? The thought made her head hurt.

“Bramble?” A voice lifted her out of her own mind. Bramblewing turned, looking on as a small white she-cat emerged from the trees. “What are you doing out here? I thought you were still asleep.”

“I decided to go for a walk,” she lied. “I didn’t alarm you, did I Swanfeather?”

Swanfeather shook her head. “No, but I was surprised to see you. Everything alright? I heard what happened at the Gathering.”

Cinderfoot’s decrepit body flashed in her mind again, causing Bramblewing to grimace. “Yeah… It was pretty bad, but I’m fine. Have you heard who the new WindClan deputy is yet?”

Her companion nodded. “The patrol at Sunhigh met a RiverClan patrol along the border, whose dawn patrol had met a WindClan border patrol, who told them the news.”

“Well?”

“You’ll never guess.”

“Who?” Bramblewing’s tail slashed the air anxiously.

“You’ll never believe it.”

“I’ll never get the chance to if you don’t just tell me.”

Swanfeather paused. “It’s Hollyfeather.”

“ _What_?” Bramblewing stood bewildered. “That doesn’t even make sense. Blizzardstar…”

“… Doesn’t like a deputy with strong opinions. I know. That’s why I said you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Oh I believe it, but why?”

“No clue.” Swanfeather sighed. “Come on,” she twitched her whiskers, “let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving and my paws hurt.”

Bramblewing rolled her eyes and then padded along. _First Cinderfoot’s murder, then my dream, and now Hollyfeather’s the new WindClan deputy?_ Everything baffled her. _I can’t even decide which is more unbelievable!_


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tantalized by a troubling dream, WindClan warrior Fawnflight witnesses something rather curious...

Two days had passed since the murder of Cinderfoot. Hollyfeather had been appointed as deputy, and although life had to move on, WindClan still hadn’t let go entirely. Not only because of the outrage against the brutal homicide, but because everyone had been so fond of Cinderfoot. Although passive, he had been quite the brave, kind warrior. He did his duty best he could, and he made a spectacular mentor to any apprentice he had. The job of deputy just hadn’t been for him—he was too nice to take complete control of a situation. But that’s the way Blizzardstar likes his deputies: a little submissive and incapable of usurping power.

Ever since the Gathering, Fawnflight had felt a strange disturbance in the air. Everything seemed off-balance. Perhaps her mind was just befuddled with the events, but everything she did was greatly distracted. When hunting just after Sunhigh, she fell face-first into a pile of dirt, completely missing the rabbit she had been chasing. Luckily she’d been off on her own when it happened, so she didn’t have to meet the laughter and ridicule of her Clanmates.

When she returned to the WindClan camp, her tail dragged on the ground and her head was bent in her own shame. All she was at this point was tired, wanting to go to her den and have a nice, long nap. It’d be beneficial, she figured. So she plodded onward, eyes downturned.

Before she could reach the entrance, Fawnflight walked right into another cat, causing her to stumble, lifting her head and blinking a couple of times to regain her bearings. _I shouldn’t be_ that _jarred from bumping into someone_ , she thought. Focusing on who it was in front of her, she twitched her ears.

“Sorry, Swiftshadow. I didn’t meant to run into you like that.” Her meow was soft as she blinked again.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” The tom began to turn to walk away, but his green eyes narrowed and he stopped, facing her once more. “Hey, are you okay?”

Fawnflight wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her tail-tip twitched in annoyance. “I think my head just hurts. It’s like I’ve got bees in my brain.”

“You know, normally that’s an insult, Fawn, shouldn’t you see Starlingpelt?” Swiftshadow stepped closer to her, worry reflecting in his green eyes.

Her vision seemed to come and go between being its normal, vivid sharpness and being completely blurry. She shook her head, trying to fix it, but it went right back to blurry. Trying to take a step forward, she felt herself lurching to the side, stumbling. Black edged her vision and she felt weight against her, Swiftshadow pressing himself to her side to keep her up. He said something, but she couldn’t make it out. Righting herself, she tried to take another step forward, but her whole body protested, and as her vision blurred away to nothingness, her entire body swayed and dropped itself to the ground.

***

With a start, Fawnflight’s blue eyes shot open, and she struggled to her paws. Her legs ached and her heart was racing at a million miles an hour. Panic was as cold as ice as it pumped through her veins, and blood roared in her ears. Whipping her head around, chest heaving, she looked for any sign of familiar territory. As her vision settled, she saw trees. And, just across the clearing, four particularly tall trees.

 _Wait a second!_ She thought with a gasp, _I’m on the island. But the Gathering was two days ago. Why am I here?_

Her chest hurt, it felt as though a badger were sitting on it, making it extremely difficult for her to breathe. Her paws stung, too, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Grimacing, she looked down. _StarClan!_

Scrambling backwards, Fawnflight, gasped and backed directly into the trunk of a tree. Ahead of her was a pool of scarlet blood pasted against the grass. Her paws were painted red, and she felt her toes burning with the warmth from the blood. Cinderfoot’s dead body was lying before her, his entrails decorating the ground and his single lifeless eye staring directly at her.

 _What is this?_ She tried to shriek but no sound came out. Not even a pathetic mew of fright could leave her. Her white paws covered in blood, scraps of fur stuck between her toes and in her claws. It almost looked as though… _I killed him! But I didn’t kill him—I was sitting with WindClan the entire time. Why am I here? I didn’t kill Cinderfoot. I didn’t kill him!_

Suddenly everything around her darkened, shapes merging and losing their colors, the scent of blood disappearing, and whispers surrounding her. Growing louder and louder, unrecognizable voices filled her ears and drowned out even the sound of her panicked heartbeat. She was standing in solitude, nothing but blackness around her and strange tongues speaking to mind. Her paws were rooted in place, still scarlet with Cinderfoot’s blood.

“Help!” She yowled, trying to tug herself out of this nightmarish place.

“Help? You don’t need help, dear.” A smooth voice came out of nowhere, suddenly silencing every whisper that had been plaguing her ears.

A gorgeous white and gray she-cat appeared, tilting her head to the side and staring at the young warrior with brilliant blue eyes. Walking around her, the she-cat’s tail trailed beneath the warrior’s chin, flicking it to lift her head up.

“Fawnflight,” the she-cat spoke in such a silvery tone, “I have been wondering when you would come here.”

“I don’t even know what this place is.” She struggled to even speak, timid voice wavering. “This isn’t StarClan, is it?”

The other shook her head. “No, it’s just beyond. But it’s okay, you will see StarClan soon enough. Just not in this dream.”

“Who—who are you?” Fawnflight finally gasped out the question. The least she could do was learn the name of the ethereal cat that spoke to her.

“My name is Orchidstar, my dear, sweet warrior.” A purr emanated from Orchidstar’s chest, her eyes twinkling fondly. “A former ThunderClan leader. Though I don’t expect you to have heard of me.” Fawnflight shook her head shyly. “That’s alright,” the leader continued. “I’ll tell you many stories each time we meet. But we do not have much time right now. Do you think you can do an old StarClan cat a favor?”

Blinking, Fawnflight felt her muscles relax, nodding slowly. Her fur began to lie flat once more, and she realized she could actually move from her place. Looking down, she noticed the blood and fur were gone. Relief flooded over her and she returned her gaze to Orchidstar.

“Yes, I can. What is it?”

The leader regarded her with curious contemplation. After a moment, she stepped to the side, pushing a small pebble forward with her paw. Orange glowed softly around it. “Take this,” she meowed, “and show no one. I need you to hide it somewhere in your den. Can you do that for me?”

“Well, sure, but why do you—”

“—I cannot tell you right now, we’re running out of time.” Despite her words, Orchidstar’s voice was calm, her demeanor suggesting nothing about needing to be hasty. “Take this with you, put it in your den, and leave it there. Await further instruction from me. Do _not_ tell anyone about this. Not even your leader. Promise me.”

“I—I promise.” Fawnflight stammered reluctantly, a gripping feeling grasping at her chest once more.

“Good. Farewell, brave warrior. We will meet again.” The kindness in Orchidstar’s eyes faded, a flash of something far more malicious now lighting them. And with a single strike, she lashed out with unsheathed claws and tore into Fawnflight’s throat.

***

Awaking with a gasp, Fawnflight jolted out of her dream with her heart racing once more. _What in name of StarClan…?_ Her thoughts were fuzzy once more, but at least her vision had cleared. Examining herself, she found not cuts or scrapes, no sign of the blood that had been on her paws in her dream, and lastly no wound from Orchidstar slashing open her throat.

 _Why would she have done that?_ She wondered. _Maybe that’s just how you have to be woken up out of a dream from StarClan._ Suddenly it hit her. _StarClan! I just had a StarClan cat walk in my dreams._ It was nearly unfathomable, aside from the fact that it did indeed happen.

Shifting, Fawnflight looked around, realizing that she was in Starlingpelt’s den, surrounded by the fresh, clean, comforting scent of herbs, and lying in a soft nest of moss. She couldn’t recall taking any remedies yet, but she was sure that as soon as the medicine cat returned, she would be forced to chew up something bitter.

A sharp pain hit her side as she moved. Hissing, she rolled over, finding a dull pebble beneath her. The very pebble she’d been given, except it was missing its orange glow. _Strange, maybe I imagined the glow before_. Fawnflight blinked, tucking it beneath her again. She’d hide it, just as Orchidstar instructed her, as soon as she was out of the medicine cat’s den.

***

Having been easily dismissed (but not without warning to take it easy), Fawnflight was able to return to the warrior’s den. Managing to get there before night fell, she tucked away the pebble toward the back where no one would find it, and moved to her nest to curl up and fall asleep.

It felt like a blink of her eyes by the time she woke up, and it wasn’t even dawn yet. The other WindClan warriors were asleep around her, some snoring, some purring, and a few twitching while dreaming. However, there was a noise from the other side of the den. Keeping her head down, she tried to see who was getting up and making their way out of the den. It was difficult to tell in the dark, shadows moving and with such a dark pelt— _Swiftshadow! What in the world is he up to?_

Waiting a couple heartbeats, Fawnflight rose to her feet to follow him. Padding silently, though as quickly as she could, she rounded outside the camp, following his scent and trying to stay downwind herself. The night was still, the sky was clear, making it more difficult for her on the open ground. However, soon they made their way down toward the lake, heading past Horseplace, and into the tall grass that led up to the fallen tree that created the bridge to the island.

 _What in the name of StarClan is he doing?_ Swiftshadow continued forward, and it was easier for her to hide in the grass, though more difficult to track him. Suddenly there was a break in the grass, the clearing where the cats would go to hop onto the log and make their way to the island. Swiftshadow paced back and forth in the open, and Fawnflight watched from the grass and reeds. They were dangerously near RiverClan territory, and while that area was neutral ground, they’d still get in major trouble if they were found out there at Moonhigh.

A while passed and Fawnflight was getting anxious. As was Swiftshadow, who—while he had quit pacing—had his tail lashing back and forth, whiskers twitching. A moment later there a shape emerged silently from the reeds on the other side of the clearing. _How could a cat move so quietly here?_ She wondered. Only cats from one Clan were capable of such a feat: ShadowClan warriors.

Heart stopping, Fawnflight’s eyes widened as moonlight brightened the area just enough to make out who the other cat was. It was that she-cat, the one who had been sitting by Hollyfeather and Swiftshadow three nights ago at the Gathering. Bramblewing. Watching, she saw Swiftshadow approach the ShadowClan she-cat and greet her.

Suppressing a nervous growl, Fawnflight settled down, preparing to sit for a while to listen in. Spying isn’t exactly good, she noted, _but this can’t possibly be good, either._


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bramblewing walks into Cat Hell. Literally.

Bramblewing’s heart pounded in her chest. Despite the fact that she knew she wouldn’t get caught, anxiety still flooded her body as she padded silently through the reeds. She was running late—having ended up being made to go hunting with the last patrol that evening. By the time she could slip away, the sun had already set and moonhigh near approaching.

She took a couple of deep breaths as she reached the edge of the reeds to the small clearing where she could smell Swiftshadow. Slipping out between the reeds, Bramblewing approached the tom and nodded as he greeted her.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” Swiftshadow blinked, looking at curiously.

Dipping her head down, she put on the ground what she’d been holding in her mouth. A small brown pebble, smaller than her paw. She pushed it toward him with her nose then took a step back. He crouched down to look at it, narrowing his green eyes.

“There’s something etched into it. What’s it mean?” He raised his head, standing tall again. Swiftshadow was taller than her by quite a bit, so she had to lift her chin to look at him properly. Despite her lithe form and long legs, she was still no match for his height.

Bramblewing reached out to the pebble and nudged it with her paw. “It looks like a symbol. Something like—” she pushed her paw into the dirt and drew three swirled shapes. “—whatever that is.” With a flick of her tail, she began to pace. “I think it’s like… would it be weird to say it’s like wind over the moor? I really, really think it’s related to WindClan somehow. And I’m telling you this because—”

“—Because I’m WindClan and I’m your friend.” Swiftshadow completed the sentence and stood there, looking at her and back down to the pebble.

“I think that it has something to do with your clan. And I don’t understand it.” The ShadowClan cat stopped pacing with a sigh, tail drooping. “I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“Do you want to keep it, or should I take it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t mind either way.”

Bramblewing tilted her head back, closing her eyes, face toward the moon. The light shone around them casting long, eerie shadows while everything else was bathed in silver and white. It made her own white fur shine. After taking a deep breath, she lowered her head and looked at her companion, thoughts rushing through her mind. What’s the pebble for? Why does it have a symbol that makes her think of WindClan?

“Just go ahead and take it with you. Hide it. Maybe it’s nothing. It’s just strange.” She began to turn. “I need to get back before the dawn patrol goes out.”

“Hey, wait,” Swiftshadow padded up beside her, flicking his tail over her ear. “You have good instincts. Use them. I’ll keep it safe. Good luck on your way back.”

A purr rumbled in Bramblewing’s throat as she looked over her shoulder, watching Swiftshadow pick up the pebble and disappear into the reeds back toward his own territory. Then, she went on her own way, into the reeds silently once more. Staying within a couple of tail-lengths of the lake, the neutral ground, keeping as far from RiverClan territory as possible. The moon was beginning to go down, and while the sun wasn’t quite yet coming up, she knew that sooner or later it would and she didn’t want to be caught entering camp as a patrol was leaving.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts of hurrying that she almost didn’t noticed a shape coming toward her. Stopping mid-step, she turned, eyes wide, as the overwhelming scent of RiverClan wafted into her nostrils.

“What are you doing?” A tom made his way toward her, padding purposefully, holding his head high and blue eyes narrowed.

“I’m just making my way back to camp.” Bramblewing replied seamlessly, masking her shock as best she could.

“Where were you?” It was Jaysnow, the RiverClan deputy, Bramblewing recognized. His tail lashed back and forth in the air with annoyance.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she replied curtly, “I’m within the boundaries beside the lake. I’m not doing any harm. Trust me, I have no interest in hanging out in RiverClan territory.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I’m alone. In the open. And you would be able to scent if I had been on your territory. I’m going back to camp.”

“Fine, but next time,” Jaysnow moved closer, “I’m going to tell Crowstar. Don’t do it again.”

Fur bristling, Bramblewing held back a hiss, and said nothing. Only giving him a glare, she turned sharply and raced along the bank and toward her home territory.

***

Luckily she was able to make her way back into camp and the warrior’s den before anyone got up. But just as she’d laid down and began to doze, cats around her started to stir, preparing for the dawn patrol. There were quiet hisses of aggravation at needing to get up so early, but those quieted once more when they left. Finally, Bramblewing was able to get some sleep.

***

“Ah, pretty little prophecy girl.” A deep voice rumbled in her ears, causing her heart to stop in alarm as she scrambled to her feet. She was no longer lying in her nest, no longer in the warrior’s den. Breathing ragged, she looked around, and found herself standing in mud, paws completely covered, dark trees looming in the distances on one side, and shimmering grass on the other. And her, stuck in the middle.

Bramblewing shook her head, trying to clear her mind. The voice was familiar. It belonged to that muscular tom she’d met nights ago, the one who terrified her. The one who had such a condescending, hungry gaze and a terrible sneer of a voice. It vibrated her bones, shaking her to the core. Just the thought of it made her skin crawl.

A dark, looming shape of a cat emerged from the darkness, black fire licking at his paws. Bramblewing could already feel herself trembling, but suppressed it best she could. No need to let the tom think he held any power of fear over her—no matter how much he truly did, and likely he already knew he had some. Holding herself firmly in place, she lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes in a glare, looking up at the dark tabby.

“Prophecy girl,” he purred, voice edging with malicious amusement. “Look at you, standing all tall and pretty.” Stopping before the invisible line that he couldn’t seem to cross, he looked down on her, like a mountain lion staring evilly at the prey it had wounded, prepared to deliver the final blow—and savoring it.

“Why don’t you come here, hmm?” He spoke again, tilting his head to the side. “Step right on over. Don’t you think you can do it?”

“Last time I tried going one way, my paws _burned_ ,” she hissed in response.

“Woah there, pretty little flower, no need to get angry.” He feigned offense, tail waving side to side.

“I have a name.” She spat her retort.

“Yes, yes, _Bramblewing_. What a dainty name. Wing. Can you fly, little birdie?”

Bramblewing hissed again, the fur on the back of her neck standing straight. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? Isn’t that obvious?” The tom shook his head in false disappointment. “I want _you_ , kitty. Join me on this side, why don’t you?” He swept his tail to the side, stepping back. She glanced warily at him, but slowly moved forward.

Bramblewing winced as she stepped onto the dark dirt and dead grass, waiting for pain to shoot through her limbs, but there was none. Instead, she crossed over with ease, standing beside the broad-shouldered tom. “Who are you, and what is this place?”

“My name is Thornmask, and this is my home. My territory. My _kingdom_.” He purred deeply, but it still sounded vicious. “The Dark Forest. Where cats like me go. Well, where most cats like me go when we die. Some manage to make their escape to the good side. StarClan. But over here is where things are really interesting.”

Flicking his ears, he began to move forward with long strides, and Bramblewing struggled to keep up. Thornmask walked with such confidence that it made her shudder. He was so at home in such a dark, smelly, scary place. She didn’t even need to ask him about the cats residing in the Dark Forest. _If it’s the opposite of StarClan, I don’t want to know any more details_.

And yet there she was, following him through the trees. Everything loomed tall and dark. Ugly greens, charred blacks, and a stench that made her wrinkle her nose so terribly that she worried it would permanently stay that way. Her skin crawled, and she was sure there were eyes on her from the bushes and the shadows. She didn’t dare look around in case she saw someone—something—watching her.

“Why do you keep calling me _prophecy girl_?” she side-eyed him anxiously.

Thornmask _mrrowed_ , pleased with himself. “There’s a prophecy about you. But I’m not allowed to tell you about it. That is something you will have to learn from someone else. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to say it. Otherwise, oh I would love to tell you.”

Knots formed in Bramblewing’s stomach. That didn’t sound good in the least. Before she could say anything, wrapped up in her own terror, Thornmask spoke again.

“You’ve met Orchidstar.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement. _So he knows_ , she thought, _of course he does_. Perhaps that’s what he meant by some of his kind getting over to the other side. _What did he do to get here? I don’t even want to know. But if Orchidstar is anything similar, how did she manage to make it into StarClan?_

Bramblewing’s whiskers twitched. “She’s strong. And she’s intimidating. What’s her deal?”

“Oh, you’ll see. Eventually.” The tom was so flippant with what he said, making everything have a dangerous edge. With how he spoke, she’d be terrified to see how confident he was in battle. Surely those large paws host sharp claws.

“Fine. But what about you? And why am I here? And how come I was in StarClan, then stuck in the Middle and couldn’t get back, but now I’m here?”

“You ask too many questions,” Thornmask grumbled, weaving around a bush. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Shutting her mouth, Bramblewing followed him silently for what felt like forever. How did he know his way around? Everything looked the same. There were no good distinguishing landmarks from what she could tell. _He must have been here for a long time_. She felt her throat tightening at the thought.

Finally they came upon a wall constructed out of the sharpest thorns she’d ever seen. They looked red, as if they were stained with blood. Queasy, she followed him through a sort of hidden entrance, slipping through a thorny tunnel and hoping not to get caught. When she came through, she stopped short, gasping.

In front of her was a clearing. A very, very red clearing. Scarlet and hot. A metallic scent overwhelmed her, and she felt herself gag and near stumble as the wave of it hit her. The color red was everywhere, creating bright pools on the ground, splatting on the trees, painting the leaves and bushes. **Blood.**

Thornmask sneered, taking a giant paw and pushing Bramblewing forward with such force that she rolled, sticky blood sticking to and matting her fur, getting in her eyes, covering her. She couldn’t get to her feet, slipping and stumbling. The large tom came toward her slowly, looming dangerously over her pathetic, suddenly weak, trembling body. He leaned down, pressing his nose to her ear.

“Hey prophecy girl,” he hissed, lifting his head to let out a wicked laugh, pushing a paw down over her throat, “welcome to _Hell_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read! I hope that you're enjoying what has been posted so far. Feel free to comment and leave feedback, or hit the Kudos button if you like what you read!


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems to Bramblewing that she's not the only one hiding something...

Bramblewing jolted awake. Blood roared in her ears as her pulse skyrocketed, anxiety prickling her pelt and causing her stomach to churn. Her throat hurt, and she felt as though it was crushed and she couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t that she couldn’t—at least not here—but that she hadn’t been able to. At least not a few moments ago when her lungs screamed and her vision went black. Thornmask. What was the point of bringing her into that… was it a camp? A training area? Some sort of sick, convoluted battle ring? If only to force her to wake up after glancing at it. It made no sense, and her head began to hurt just wondering about it.

As the panic subsided, she stood up from her nest and stretched out her legs, yawning widely. Knowing her luck she would get in trouble for slacking off and sleeping all day rather than fulfilling her duties, but she was exhausted after her endeavor the night before. It was wrong to cross clan territories, especially in the middle of the night to meet up with someone from another clan, but she couldn’t figure out what else needed to be done with that pebble she’d found. Especially because she’d stumbled upon it randomly in a place where there were no other rocks present. It didn’t matter—it was out of her paws at that point and she would just have to wait and see if it actually meant something or not. No use in thinking too hard about it.

Padding out of the warriors den, Bramblewing began to head toward the fresh kill pile when there was a yowl just outside the camp entrance. Changing directions, she bounded to over to the sound and slipped out of the tunnel of brambles. In front of her stood Webnose, who had one paw on top of a smaller she-cat’s head, holding her firmly though not painfully to the ground.

“Webnose, what are you doing?” Agape, Bramblewing’s eyes flicked from the intruder to her friend and back again.

“Caught her.” Webnose blinked, unwavering, keeping her paw on the she-cat’s head. Before Bramblewing could say anything else, there was a perturbed meow from behind her. She stepped aside quickly as a long-legged, tabby ginger tom strode past her.

“Webnose, that’s the medicine cat from ThunderClan!” Foxflame, ShadowClan’s own medicine cat, chastised the young warrior, shoving her aside. He glared at Webnose before nudging the other medicine cat to her feet. “This is Littlestorm, the new ThunderClan medicine cat. Are you so dense that you couldn’t recognize her from the Gathering? We welcomed her and everything.” Webnose just flicked her tail, blinked again, and turned away, casually walking back through the camp entrance.

Foxflame grumbled, taking a step back and looking at Littlestorm. “Are you okay?” He asked rather gruffly, flicking his eyes over to Bramblewing and then back. The small blue-grey she-cat puffed up her already fluffy fur.

“I’m fine,” she said softly but curtly. “I was coming to see you.”

“It couldn’t wait until the next trip to Moonpool?” The ShadowClan medicine cat seemed irritated, as if he had better things to be doing rather than talking, as if organizing and reorganizing the herbs in his den was more important. Especially considering how Littlestorm seemed to be to be a bit unnerved.

Foxflame looked reluctantly at Bramblewing again, then back to Littlestorm. “Very well,” he mewed, “let’s go into my den. We can talk there.”

The two medicine cats left Bramblewing standing outside the camp entrance. _What could they possibly be talking about?_ She wondered. _It’s not like anyone is running low on any herbs, and as far as I know, there’s no sickness epidemic!_ Shaking her head, the warrior made her way around the brambles and forged a path through bushes to round back to behind the medicine cat den. Hopefully she could spy there without being caught.

Crouching behind the den, she narrowed her eyes and listened. The voices of the medicine cats were muffled, but still distinguishable. Bramblewing’s nose twitched, and she inched closer to get the best possible range of hearing.

“I don’t know what to do.” She recognized Littlestorm’s high, soft voice. “She came to me in my dreams, said there’s a prophecy, and that’s it. She didn’t even tell me what the prophecy is.”

An irritated growl sounded from Foxflame. “Why in StarClan would she half-tail this and just mention the existence of a prophecy? That doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t had any dreams—have you had any more beyond that one?”

“No,” Littlestorm sighed, “I’m so torn up about it. Orchidstar acted so strangely, too. There was this odd light in her eyes, and it almost scared me.”

 _Orchidstar!_ Bramblewing thought with a start. _That scary StarClan cat. What does she want with Littlestorm?_ She held back a hiss at her own thoughts. It was then that she recalled Thornmask calling her ‘prophecy girl’ and his ambiguity on the topic. Could this be the same prophecy being referenced?

“I never knew Orchidstar,” Foxflame meowed. “Neither did you. We’re both too young. So I can’t say what her behavior could indicate. I guess all we can do now is wait and see if either of us gets a dream, prophecy, or omen of some sort. Just let me know, alright?”

“I will.” Littlestorm sounded exhausted.

“Alright. Let me escort you back to the border.” Foxflame said, and Bramblewing heard them begin to walk away.

She backed up from the back of the medicine cat den and padded off into the trees, taking in a few deep breaths and allowing herself to be calmed by the strong scent of pine that surrounded her. In recent day, she couldn’t remember the last time she stopped to just breathe and let herself feel at ease. Ever since the Gathering she’d been at her wit’s end, nerves on edge and constantly aware of everything surrounding her. It’d been a whirlwind, and she the few moments she got to herself were rather blissful.

A patch of grass rustled a couple tail-lengths ahead of her. Narrowing her eyes, Bramblewing crouched down, scenting vole. Because of Webnose “catching” Littlestorm, she’d forgotten all about eating, and now her stomach protested with hunger. Mouth watering, she began to move forward slowly, downwind from her prey. So close that its smell was palpable enough to taste, the warrior wiggled her haunches, preparing to leap onto the vole and go in for the kill.

_SNAP!_

The vole darted off. Hissing, Bramblewing stood and turned to look at where the sound came from. Her ears were flattened against her head and her teeth were bared—there was nothing she hated more than being kept from accomplishing something, even if it was just hunting.

“Oww! Ow, ow, ow…” A whimpering came from behind a bush of brambles. Growling, Bramblewing followed the noise around the bushes. At first she wondered if Littlestorm had gotten lost despite Foxflame escorting her. However, when she came face-to-face with another cat, it was definitely not Littlestorm.

Suddenly she was overwhelmed with WindClan scent, and it caused her to wrinkle her nose and take a step back. Before her stood a very pretty brown tortoiseshell and white she-cat. Her eyes were watering and she was limping, holding up her right front paw. Face contorted in pain, she also couldn’t seem to hold back the terror that swept across her expression when Bramblewing happened upon her.

“WindClan,” Bramblewing meowed cautiously. “Who are you, and why are you on ShadowClan territory?”

“Bramblewing!” The she-cat responded, eyes lighting up despite the pain she was obviously in.

“No… that’s not right. _I’m_ Bramblewing.” The ShadowClan warrior scrunched up her nose and narrowed her eyes in confusion. “I’m Bramblewing, but who are _you_?”

“No, no, I know. My name is Fawnflight. I’ve been looking for you!” Fawnflight sat back on her hind legs, still holding up her front paw. “I’m lucky I ran into you.”

“Lucky isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” Bramblewing gave her a long, hard stare. “Why were you looking for me?”

“I saw you last night,” the other said rather calmly, inspecting the thorn in her paw.

Bramblewing’s heart stopped in her chest, ice sliding through her veins as her stomach tied itself in knots. “Wh-what do you mean? I wasn’t anywhere last night you must be thinking of a different cat, sorry.” As she began to turn, hoping her awkward anxiety didn’t give her away, Fawnflight called out.

“Wait! You were with Swiftshadow, and you gave him something. I just want to know what happened. I’m not going to rat you out, I just want to know.”

Freezing for a moment, Bramblewing then slowly set her paws down on the ground and hesitantly turned back. “It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing. Well… it looked like a pebble. But that doesn’t matter—it was something. What was it all about?”

“I found it in a weird spot, and it had weird marks on it, that’s all.” The ShadowClan warrior’s pelt felt as though it were crawling with ants—she needed to get out of there. Hastily, she marched forward and forced herself upon the other’s paw, gripping the thorn between her teeth and yanking it out. Fawnflight gave a surprised yowl of pain, then withdrew her paw and began licking it vigorously.

Bramblewing spat out the thorn and glared at the WindClan warrior. “You need to get off of my territory before I go get Russettail or Crowstar to figure out what you’re actually doing here.”

“Nothing bad, I promise!” Fawnflight responded between licks to her paw. “You’re acting weird, which means you’ve been up to something. You’re jumpier than a rabbit.”

The remark caused Bramblewing to hiss. “You’re a stranger invading my territory—of course I’m going to be a bit jumpy!”

“I just wanted to know what that pebble had to do with anything. If it was something important to you or to WindClan, since you brought it to us.”

“I brought it to Swiftshadow, not you and the rest of WindClan.” Bramblewing held her ground, though she felt twitchy, anxiously unsheathing and sheathing her claws over and over again.

 “But what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“No, it’s got to be something.”

Bramblewing’s tail lashed back and forth angrily, her ears beginning to lie backwards. “Get. Off. My. Territory.” She hissed, moving toward Fawnflight. “No matter what it is, it’s none of your business, so you need to leave.”

Taking the hint, the WindClan she-cat stood on her three good paws, wincing slightly and hesitant to put her other paw down. “I just wanted to know if there’s anything going on that I can help with,” she suggested weakly.

“No, now _go_.”

Bramblewing felt slightly guilty about forcing Fawnflight to leave, but at the same time she couldn’t have anyone knowing what was going on. Not with her dreams, not with the weird stone, nothing. As the WindClan she-cat turned tail and ran off, Bramblewing let out a hiss once more before sighing, tail drooping. She just didn’t have the time or strength for more of these issues. All she wanted was another nap—even though she knew that wouldn’t do her any favors, either.

***

The starry shape of a gorgeous she-cat rested on a branch in a tall oak tree. With a paw dangling over the side, a vainglorious, arrogant glint in her pale green eyes. Her tail swung back and forth as it hung below as she laid there, casual and cavalier in appearance and demeanor. Below in the underbrush was a set of warriors and their apprentices practice-fighting, learning new strikes and techniques for defeating their enemies. The cat tilted her head in amusement as they all mewed below. _How cute_ , she thought.

She recalled her days a ThunderClan cat. From her apprenticeship to through her days as a warrior, up until she was named leader. Had she really been so forgotten to the younger generations? How naïve her clan was, how they saw her as some wonderful, chivalrous leader. _If only they knew_.

A hunger grew inside her, malice fiery in her chest, a thirst for blood making her mouth water. She unsheathed her claws and scratched at the bark of the tree, eyes flashing with her bloodlust. A wicked purr rumbled in her chest. Stars in her pelt? How silly. No one knew, and it amused her to no end. Standing, she climbed down from the tree, striding through the leaves and bushes.

_Time for some fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Remember to give kudos or comment below with what you think!


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entropy meets deliberated chaos.

For the past three days Bramblewing had been shirking her warrior duties. She’d do the bare minimum: patrols when specifically asked (no volunteering) and hunting independently, bringing back a vole here, a shrew there, a couple of birds, anything that caught her eye when she was idly staring into space, allowing her vision to go blurry while sitting in a remote place in ShadowClan territory. She’d felt like she was in a daze ever since that night in the Dark Forest, since her larynx was _crushed_ by Thornmask. That vicious, large, killing machine of a cat. Just the thought of him made her fur stand on end, and she hadn’t hardly slept since then, worried she’d wind up there once more. The last thing she needed was to play pretend and let herself get killed over and over again in her dreams, only to wake up with phantom pains and feeling like she had just fought three battles back to back.

So she stood there, swaying on her paws, staring into nothingness as all the pines blended around her, a mix of dark greens and browns morphing into unrecognizable shapes. Her head felt light, and her stomach lurched. Drowsy, dreary, and just plain exhausted, Bramblewing stumbled forward and found a niche between the roots of a large tree. Perhaps if she just rested there for a while, she’d be able to continue with her half-tailed hunting. Settling down, she tucked her nose beneath her tail. _I’ll rest my eyes for just a short while_ , she thought, _and then I’ll bring back some big fresh-kill_. So she closed her eyes, letting out a long breath.

***

A screech rang out in her ears. Scrambling to her paws, Bramblewing shook the fuzziness out of her head, blinking away the sleep from her eyes which widened as her heart pounded. Whipping her head around, she saw a battalion of cats rushing toward an opposing force, snarls on their lips, teeth bared and claws unsheathed. They leaped at one another, yowls and growls piercing the air. The surge moved around her, and the ShadowClan she-cat was buffeted from side to side, narrowly missing snapping jaws and sharp claws. Panic glided through her veins as if it were a normal occurrence, her brain accepting the terror as a regular feeling, and her whole body remained tense, rooting her to the ground. Frozen.

None of the cats seemed interested in her, though. Their mangling was reserved for one another, not for her. Bramblewing watched the assault with horror, unable to help and unable to leave.

“Brilliant, isn’t it?”

Bramblewing about jumped out of her fur. Suddenly a cat sat calmly next to her. The most beautiful she-cat she’d ever seen, white fur dappled with blue-grey spots, green eyes scanning the battlefield with bit of a gleam in them.

“Orchidstar?” she asked, breathless, “What are you doing here? This is a dream, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” the former leader purred. “A very beautiful dream.”

Wrinkling her nose, Bramblewing failed to understand what was so beautiful about a bunch of cats maliciously and mercilessly tearing one another apart. It looked as though none of them followed any sort of code of conduct whatsoever—everyone ripping into one another, bodies falling to the ground and making the grass painted with slick blood.

“Chaos,” Orchidstar continued, “is the purest form of life. No order, no instruction, just pure, unadulterated chaos. It’s gorgeous to behold, even if it’s full of destruction that’s as disruptive as this. A battle where there are no rules—the way battles were originally meant to be fought.”

“But cats are dying needlessly!” Bramblewing interjected, blinking in astonishment.

“Death is inevitable. It’s going to happen one way or another. Is there nothing more valiant than dying fighting for something you believe in?”

Bramblewing hesitated, but slowly nodded. Orchidstar did have a point there. Dying while doing her duty for her clan seemed like quite the heroic way to go. Not that she wanted to die anytime soon, of course, but she could see why it would be an honorable way to go.

“What’s the opposite of being killed?” The leader tilted her head, looking at the younger warrior.

“Living?”

“No.” A flash of fire seemed to flicker across Orchidstar’s enrapturing green eyes. It was bright and cruel, causing fear to dig claws into Bramblewing’s heart. “ _Killing_.”

The younger warrior took a step back from Orchidstar. “No, no, that doesn’t sound right—”

“—Oh, but it makes sense. Taking care of your clan, defending it against your enemies. Why not keep your own clan victorious? Why let the others continue to live when they threaten you and your kin?”

Again, Bramblewing was taken aback. Surely she couldn’t be condoning _murder_ , could she? An amused purr erupted from Orchidstar, who lifted a paw and licked it.

“But we don’t look at it that way, do we? No, we keep one another safe. There have always been four clans.” Orcidstar delicately set down her paw, wrapping her tail around her paws and looking out as the battlefield disappeared. “We let cats live. Because if everyone died at the hands of their enemies while defending their clan, then being a hero would mean nothing—everyone would be a hero. That isn’t fair. So then we have to ask ourselves, what is a hero?”

Bramblewing shook her head. She’d always thought a hero was someone who took on great responsibility and helped others, doing their best to be selfless and serve their clan in the clan’s darkest hours. If it wasn’t that, what was it?

“I’ll leave you to think of a good answer for that, my dear.” Orchidstar lifted her head to look at the tree branches above them. “When you have a definition figured out, I will find you. Don’t worry about finding me. Good luck, and get some sleep. You’re going to need it. There is a storm coming, child, and you need to be prepared. There’s a _prophecy_ to be fulfilled, after all.” And with that, the leader began to fade, the stardust around her dissipating in the air.

“Wait!” Bramblewing meowed in distress, “What prophecy? Why does everyone keep mentioning a prophecy but not saying what it is?” But her questions were in vain, for the StarClan cat was already gone.

Suddenly her sight shifted, and she was resting once more in the roots of the large pine from earlier. Still dizzy, she felt her stomach churn and growl. _Fox-dung_ , she cursed inwardly, _the sun’s already setting and I haven’t caught a thing! Better get hunting._

***

Wind buffeted tall grasses across the moor, the waning moon rising in the sky, clouds drifting occasionally across it and the stars, blotting them out. The fresh scent of rain was on the horizon, darker clouds to come in on the air shortly. The grass and dirt was soft beneath Orchidstar’s delicate paws, and she lifted her nose in the air, taking in a deep breath. Everything was so fresh, clean, pure. Sure, StarClan was beautiful territory, but here she felt alive again, regardless of the stars that shifted in her pelt.

Padding onward, she, wove through tall grasses and made her way over the crest of a hill, overlooking WindClan camp. It was so peaceful, with a cat on guard at its entrance. She could easily slip past them, though, and she did as such. _What an advantage of being dead_ , she thought fondly, _no one has to see you if you don’t want them to_. A purr rose in her throat as she padded onward, finding herself standing in front of the warrior’s den.

Sounds of deep breathing filled Orchidstar’s ears. _How calming_ , she mused, closing her eyes for a moment and relishing in the serenity, letting her heartbeat slow beyond its normal, relaxed rate. Taking time to just allow her muscles to rest. Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes once more, flicking her ears, and ducking her head to enter the den.

She wove her way past sleeping cats, counting heads of those that were so unimportant that she didn’t even know their names. All of their pelts rising and falling, everyone getting the sleep they needed, the sleep they deserved. What boring lives they lived, repetitive motions until they died. Of course some of them would move up in their lives, someone eventually becoming deputy, perhaps even leader. That’s an honor in of itself, she supposed, having been one herself, but there was more to life than that. No one wanted to be just another cat by the time they entered StarClan. At least she couldn’t fathom being a nobody. That’s why she became a somebody, right?

_A forgotten somebody_ , she snarled inwardly. Correction: she _should_ be a somebody. But she saved her feats for her own memory. _For now_.

Orchidstar’s claws unsheathed. She walked lightly, silently, easily not disturbing a single cat she walked past. Her tail-tip flicked back and forth restlessly, her paws itching to get to work. Turning her head, she spotted a small, glowing stone tucked at the back of the den, right next to the nest of a familiar she-cat. Mottled brown and white fur curled in a tight ball, sleeping peacefully. Fawnflight. Her soon-to-be protégé. It’s about time that process got started.

Walking in her dreams permanently would have to wait, as there was other work to be done first. The leader, surveyed the nests, scanning each cat meticulously. Who would be the one to cause the most grief if they were gone? Or does that even matter? If she had to choose based on importance, she would choose the deputy—again. But that wasn’t necessary. Anyone would work. So long as it was a warrior in this den…

Her eyes stopped on a dark long-furred tabby—strange, for a WindClan cat, but perfect. Oh yes, that would do. Slowly she made her way back to the middle of the den, deliberating on every step. She took in the sounds, the snores and the sighs, the scent, so airy and open and green like the grass the WindClan cats’ pelts brushed against every day. It was such a nice scent, too bad it would have to briefly be mixed with something more metallic.

Eyes flashing, Orchidstar looked down at the warrior. A senior warrior, lithe, quick, powerful legs despite their long fur. What a pretty thing.

She flexed her claws, and in one swift motion turned the cat over, leaning down and biting into their throat. Before the warrior could fight back or make a sound, the life drained from their eyes, their muscles went slack. But that wasn’t where Orchidstar stopped. Her claws tore into their soft belly, opening it and letting their insides spill out, ripped slices into their ears, tugged and tugged at their fur, strewing it around their nest. By the time the damage was done, the corpse was so mangled with complete malevolence, and Orchidstar’s white paws were covered in scarlet blood.

The metallic scent filled the air, choking off the prominent WindClan scent, and surely it was only a matter of time before the other warriors realized something was wrong. Even in one’s sleep, the outside had a tendency to slip in. But Orchidstar sat there, looking at the artwork she created and reveling in it, casually licking her paws clean, her tongue swiping across her lips and ridding her muzzle of the blood from the first strike. No need to frame anyone: part of the fun was watching them tear their own clan apart trying to determine who the culprit was.

Finally she stood.

Rather than exiting, she turned back toward Fawnflight. Purring, she dipped her head down, pressing her nose against the young warrior’s ear. “Soon,” she whispered, “you will be the greatest cat to walk the land around these lakes. Just you wait. You will do what I couldn’t do, my dear, dear, precious _daughter_.”

Then she turned, holding her head high, and exited. Finally, the kingpin to the beginning of beautiful, sweet, tasteful **chaos**.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter fic with the clans in their lake setting, comprised of completely unique original characters with no relations to any canon characters. Please leave comments and questions below!


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